I’ve become quite a crier since I became a mother. Or perhaps I’ve always been one and being with young children has just unleashed this previously unknown tendency? I cry my way through Disney films – and on the rare occasion that doesn’t see me blubbering at the happy ending, then the kids will ask me if I’m feeling all right. Because tears are a natural part of their lives.
Then there are the public events that I cry through – albeit more discreetly. There are end-of-school concerts and shows and singing events.
Like yesterday, for example. A simple singing concert, with young high voices so pure and clear that I found my eyes welling up with tears.
Call me naive, but there is something so pure and innocent and joyful in those moments that it stirs my soul.
Then I think back to the end of school ceremony in church last summer. (Yes, another tearful occasion!)
After seeing my daughter play the violin, four boys persuaded their parents to put them down for violin lessons.
Call me naive – but there is beauty and power in music.
And just as I’m about to try to become cynical, I look at the photo again.
Is it just me – or can you also see a row of tiny angels on the ledge underneath the window?
Call me naive: but is it so wrong to believe in the goodness of others?